Racer's Muse
by prouvaires
Summary: Meet Muse, Spirit and Rain's first daughter. Now meet Caesarion, the best racehorse ever, with an ego to match. They each have their own little world. But when they're forced to work together, nothing good can happen. Read and Review!
1. Birth of a Legend

Both owner and mother looked down proudly at the new foal

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to DreamWorks. The rest is mine, all mine!!**

"**Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.****" – Herman Cain**

Both owner and mother looked down proudly at the new foal. He was trying to get to his feet, legs splayed all over the place.

His owner, Jim Harris, was inordinately pleased with his latest addition to the stables. Bred from the famous racer Caesar, whose bloodline was stuffed full of champions, including Nearco and Prince Chevalier, he was a guaranteed cert on the racetrack, especially over hurdles.

His mother, Cleopatra, was beautiful golden mare, who had a large amount of mustang in her. This had come about when Jim's forebears had despaired of ever breeding a good racer. The speed wasn't the problem, it was just that all the horses lacked stamina completely. So Jim's great-great-great grandfather had effectively solved the problem by breeding his best mare with the best mustang he could find, then the resulting foal with the best Arabian, then mustang, etc. This program had continued until the British Racing Association had banned it if the family still wanted to race their horses, on grounds of impurities.

So the foal was going to be a winner. Jim, who had rather a thing for Ancient Egypt and its famous links with Rome, decided to name the foal Caesarion. The mare had dropped twins before, by a different stallion, and he had named those Cleopatra Selene and Alexander Helios.

Cleo smiled fondly down at her son, noting his already broad muscles and deep chest, good legs and fine head carriage. She liked the name her owner was saying, and she decided to keep it. Caesarion. Yes, she did like it. Her own name was one of complete coincidence. Her mother had named her Cleo, and then, when she was finally registered by Jim, he had named her Cleopatra. Luck. That's all there was to it.

Caesarion struggled to his feet. As he stood he awoke to himself, aware of his greatness and importance. He would be a true champion. This did nothing for his naturally over-large ego. Heading for his mother's head, he stood before her. She licked his forehead tenderly, snuffling at his short, fluffy mane and messing it up. He poked his nose at her, and she turned to offer him her milk.

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

Spirit, bursting with utter pride, gazed down delightedly at his new daughter. Rain whinnied softly up at him, but he stayed still, completely captivated by the picture of wide-eyed innocence standing before him. Rain got to her feet, while Spirit gently tried to help the foal up. After several tries, she stopped and seemed to consider. Then, using her nose to balance, she very carefully got up onto her back legs. After that, making sure her hind legs were stable, she cautiously lifted her nose from the ground and pushed herself up so she was standing. Pleased with herself, she launched herself forwards and fell tangled in a heap.

Spirit rushed towards her, but Rain held him back.

"Look, she's fine." She told him. Reluctantly, Spirit held back, watching as his daughter once again pushed herself to her feet using her nose, then started to get a feel for her legs, moving more confidently as she remained upright. She eventually returned to where her parents were standing, butting imperiously at her mother until she got the milk she wanted.

"Spirit, quick, over there, cougar!" Rain neighed desperately, indicating the large cat who was creeping towards the three foals playing together to one side of the herd. Spirit sprang forward, screaming a challenge, and the cat, an old veteran of the plains, turned tail and fled. It was having a bad day and couldn't be bothered to stay and fight Spirit. It was too clever for that.

Spirit returned to his family, entranced by the foal who came up and stared at him. He lowered his head to be on eye-level with her. This was what she had been waiting for, however, and she promptly grabbed his forelock in her teeth and pulled. Outraged, Spirit tried to pull back, but found that it rather hurt if he moved. Rain, desperately amused, nudged her recalcitrant daughter. The filly rather reluctantly let go, laughter dancing in her eyes.

She was a solid black colour, but Rain could tell that she would get lighter. How much lighter, she wasn't sure. She might even turn out iron or dapple grey, although maybe not that light. Spirit turned away from the broad view of the plains, smiling back at Rain.

"Do you have a name for her yet?" He asked.

"Yes. Muse."

"That's so pretty. It suits her."

"I know. I have been thinking about it since I first knew I was expecting."

Spirit watched her lay down, and it finally sprung to mind that she might be tired. They had retreated to a relatively remote spot, which still had a view of the herd, to try and make sure the baby wasn't frightened by a lot of large heads looming over her.

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

Caesarion watched goings on with pricked ears and bright eyes. Now a month old, he was no fool. He was a dark bay, with liquid brown eyes and cute black-tipped ears. He was still pretty gangly, but his general body shape promised to be something special.

Jim approached him with a small head-collar. Almost condescendingly, Caesarion allowed it to be slipped over his head, following Jim out of the stall for the first time. His mother was next to him, also on a lead-rope, although she didn't need it, she trusted her owner above everyone else.

Caesarion's nostrils flared as he caught the scent of the outside world. Mesmerized with colours, scents and noises, he gazed out across the fields. Cleo moved towards her son protectively, and he, for once, pressed into her side, nervous.

But when Jim let him into the field, five or six other foals, a little older than himself, crowded in. His mother left him to catch up with her friends, leaving him alone to cope with the others. A strong-looking grey foal stepped forward.

"Hi. I'm Seb. My human name is Midnight Snow. I hate it. This is Shiner, or Star Girl - " here Seb indicated the palomino filly to his left – "Morocco, or Captain Heartbreaker - " the dark red chestnut on Shiner's other side – "Zebedee, both here and on the racetrack," the pure black colt on his left – "Daphne, or Cheeky Chequers," the piebald filly next to Zebedee, "and last but not least Jazira, who is Indian Veil when she races." This last filly was a bay, lighter in colour than Caesarion.

He nodded nervously back at them all, swallowing.

"Well, what's your name?" Shiner asked, grinning at him.

"I'm Caesarion, by Caesar out of Cleopatra. That's my both my normal name and my human name. There's so much space here! Can I run?" He had changed the topic to distract the incredulous looks, but it didn't work.

"You're _Caesar's _son?"

"Yeah, what's so special about that?"

"About that? Well, he's only the greatest living racehorse! Duh!" Morocco came even closer. "Do you want to race? We do two laps of the field. Of course, you're new, so you only have to do one."

Insulted, Caesarion pawed the ground. "I will do two laps, thank you, and beat you while I'm at it." All the other foals exchanged glances, then lined up. Caesarion stood, shifting his weight, determined to win. When Daphne whinnied as a signal to start, he streamed forward, legs pumping, regulating his speed. The other foals overtook him, but he kept just behind them. They turned their heads and snorted in amusement. But, with deep instinct, Caesarion knew to wait. And, when they rounded the last corner, the mares watching proudly, Caesarion found another gear, one that would last forever. He simply shot forward, overtaking the others in a matter of seconds. He crossed the big tree's shadow and slid to a halt, rearing in triumph. He had finished ten lengths in front of the others.

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

"Hey Lathí, wait up!" Muse called after her friend, cantering over to her.

"Well, you took your time. Come on, we're going down to the river."

"Right behind you. In fact, in front of you now!" Muse called, lengthening her stride and overtaking her friend. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lathí's chestnut head coming up beside her. She increased her speed, and left her friend to eat her dust.

She drew up at the river, calling a greeting to Actaeon and Rannoch. Lathí soon arrived and scowled at her, breathing heavily.

"I still don't get how you do it, Muse. You're not even out of breath!"

"What can I say? I'm a talent!"

"And a perfectly modest one, too, right guys?" Rannoch said, grinning at her. The other two laughed.

"Whatever, losers!" Muse said cheerfully, and bent down to drink. She heard light hooves behind her, but was too slow. Actaeon bashed into her and sent her flying into the river. It was midsummer, so the river was wide, pretty shallow and slow-moving. It still contrived to soak Muse, and she got up and shook before getting out and shaking again. She was about to go for Actaeon when she heard her mother calling.

"Muse? Come on, now, dear, it's getting late. Your father needs to see you."

"Whatever," Muse muttered under her breath. "Later guys." She said to her three friends, then turned and trotted up the hill to where her mother was standing.

"Muse, I told you not to go in the water! It can get cold at night." Rain said. Muse snorted, and got a nip on the withers for her impertinence. She sighed, supposing that at least this way she would grow up safely.

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

**Three years later:**

Caesarion stood, desperately eager, at the starting line, trying to calm down and keep himself collected. He thought back to his training, the first day, the first day of his proper life.

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

_Caesarion baulked as they tried to put the bridle on him._

"_No! I will NOT!" he said, but all the humans could hear was indignant snorting. His mother came up behind him._

"_Come now, darling, you know you have to. It's the only way you can get trained up to be a proper racer. And besides, you need to behave, or they might …… you know …… _snip_ you, sweetheart, to try and calm you down."_

_To everyone's surprise, except Caesarion's, he immediately quietened down and, although nervous, decided to face his fear and allow the cold metal bit to be shoved between his teeth. He also stood quietly as they put the saddle on, even if he did lay out as they tightened the girth. The stable-hands looked on in a mixture of jealousy and dismay as the head jockey, Ryan, was legged up onto Caesarion's back. _

_But no-one had anything to fear. As soon as Caesarion felt the weight on his back, balanced perfectly, light hands on the reins, something clicked. He knew what he had to do. He stood still at first, a little unsure what was wanted, but his stable-boy, Rodney, led him forward as the jockey kicked. Caesarion filed all the information away._

Kick – go forward. Tug left, go left. Tug right, go right. Pull back, go slow. Yank back, stop.

_He recognised the practise course his trainer had, and immediately began to dance on his toes, eagerly anticipating. Rodney had a hard job stopping him sprinting off, leaning his full weight against the horse's chest. Aboard, Ryan grinned down from Caesarion's magnificent 16hh. They reached the start line, and Caesarion was lined up with several older, calmer horses, the top horses in training at that yard, and also Morocco, who looked magnificent, although still uncomfortable under the saddle, even though he'd been broken in at least a month before._

"_Let him go, Rod. He'll be great. He feels a million pounds." Ryan said. Unwilling, the lad unclipped the lead-rein and stepped back. At a shout from Simon Brysan, the trainer, Ryan loosened the reins a little, seeing if Caesarion understood the signal. He sure did. He took off forward in such a great bound that Ryan almost came off in astonishment. He had been told the horse was good, but _this_ good? Nothing had prepared him for it. Caesarion had hit the front and was still accelerating. _

_Somehow Ryan sensed that the horse could go forever, and allowed him to speed up a little more, before pulling on the reins a little to indicate he wished the horse to travel at a steady speed._

_Caesarion felt the slight pull on his mouth, and stopped speeding up. What a feeling! He could have run for eternity, and he knew it. His wonderfully proportioned legs simply ate up the distance, and he finished twenty-five lengths ahead of his nearest pursuer. Elated, he tried to keep running. He could have gone round again and again and again. But then, he felt the iron bar in his mouth being pulled against his tongue. He didn't like it, and pulled back. The bar only pressed harder, and he threw his head back and took a few steps backwards to try and ease the painful pressure. He felt the heels in his side and tried to move forward, but the iron bar was there, pressurizing him. _

_In desperation, Caesarion reared. He felt a horrible, sharp pain on his flank, and this time he bolted forward. The weight remained there, though. Stopping, he felt the pain again. Suddenly realising it was the weight causing the pain, he put in one colossal buck, and watched in satisfaction as the offending human flew through the air._

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

That day, that one day, had made him realise that he didn't have to do what was asked of him if he didn't want to. What he didn't know was that his owner, Jim, had ensured that he would be neither gelded nor shot for pure arrogance. His bloodline was too good. Most people who knew him knew him as the most arrogant snob of a racehorse there ever was, but the human public loved him because there was something awfully endearing about him. His owner saw it. His current lad and jockey saw it. His trainer saw it. His mother saw it. The other horses didn't. It had been enough to get him into several fights, but he had tempered himself a little, lost a few races, and now was more experienced than arrogant, although he did not have a small ego.

Then, suddenly, the tapes went up and he shot forward. His jockey, still Ryan, let him get in front and let him stay there, not increasing speed until one of his rivals tried to overtake. Caesarion found his next gear, and sped up. His opponents were left wondering where the hell he'd gone. To their dismay, they saw him at least a fence ahead, and still going faster. Some jockeys shook their horses up, but they had lost. Caesarion slowed down to a canter to pass the finishing post. Ryan clapped his neck in praise.

He was a beautiful horse. Pure, dark, mahogany bay, he stood out from the others. He seemed to shine, almost. He had a fine, strong head, large, liquid brown eyes, midnight black lower legs, mane, tail and dorsal stripe. His mane and tail had been left long for this season, and his mustang blood meant it grew long and sleek. The crowd adored him. Satin coat glided over marble-hard muscles. He was unbeatable. Unbeatable at the age of _three_!

And didn't he just know it.

-o-x-o-x-o-x-o-

"Muse! Muse! I want to talk to you!"

"Hey, Rannoch," said Muse, lifting her head from the succulent patch of green she was grazing on. Rannoch found himself momentarily speechless as she looked up at him. Sighing, she turned her head away.

"Why? Why me? Why did I have to change so much? Why can't you speak to me any more? Why doesn't Lathí talk to me? What is it about me?" She spoke in a sorrowful whisper. She had changed. She was no longer the gangly black filly of three years ago. She was a mare now. Her mustang blood echoed her spirit, pure and fiery. She was rare, she knew that much. Blue roan. A blue roan mustang. Unusual, to say the least. Everyone had thought it was impossible until she had shed her winter fur that year and discovered that she was blue roan. A beautifully proportioned black head, black fur fading into the unique grey, white and black mixture that gave her the blue tinge, pure black legs, and a black mane and tail, mixed freely with silver hairs.

Her forelock fell over her eyes as she lowered her head and realised what her friend had come to ask her.

"No, Rannoch, I will not be your mate. I suppose if you win me at mating season, I'll have no choice, but you were my friend and I'll not jeopardise that, even if you will." She told him. Rannoch gulped.

"But, Mew, I ……"

"No, Rannoch. Have I changed so much? Can't we still be friends?"

"Muse, I think I love you……"

"No, you don't, Rannoch. You like the way I look maybe, but that's not enough. You have to wait for the mating season."

"But Muse ……"

Throwing back her head in a desperate neigh, Muse leapt forward into a gallop, speeding up as she went.

"NO!" She screamed at the blue sky, shaking her head to clear it of all thoughts. Suddenly, in shock, she slid to a stop, and glanced wildly around at the trees and flowers. With a start, she realised it _was _the mating season.

**The end! ReviewReviewReviewReview!**

**SilverAurora**


	2. Sea Wreck

"**Believe and act as if it were impossible to fail.****" – Charles F. Kettering**

With a grumpy snort, Caesarion allowed the humans to lead him into the box. It wasn't his normal box – he'd been in that for almost three hours prior to his arrival here. He lashed out with his back leg just for kicks as a group of stable-hands clustered around behind him. His headcollar was left on but his lead rope unclipped. He turned to watch behind him as they loaded another horse on. He heard a gentle whicker from in front of him.

"Do you know where they are taking us, friend?" The voice came from a chestnut gelding, who was standing next to the hay rack.

"If I did I would either be calmer or cross. So, I'm clueless. You?"

"Same answer. Hell, I bet they're shipping us somewhere."

"What?"

"I reckon we're being transferred away from England. I heard my groom say something about the New World, and America, just before they shoved me in that horse box. Now I'm here."

Caesarion registered this new information, and swivelled his head back around again. The new arrival was familiar.

"Shiner?"

"Caesarion!" The palomino mare replied, running over and laying her head across his neck. She withdrew and stood in front of him.

"It's been what, two years?" she asked.

"About that, yeah."

"Well, isn't that just coincidence!"

Caesarion nickered in agreement and turned to survey the newest – and last – addition to their travelling party. His jaw dropped.

"Rosie?"

"Caesarion! Oh, I'd thought I'd never see you again!" the young dappled mare exclaimed in delight. The other two horses looked on with curiosity as Caesarion nuzzled his little sister.

"This is my sister, Rose. Rose, this is Shiner and … um …"

"Nero."

"Right," Caesarion replied. Then, the box tilted massively and all four horses fell head-over-heels in a massive tangle. They all righted themselves and noticed a subtle difference. The floor was swaying slightly, and they all took a couple of moments to adjust. Then Nero said, "Well, what do you know? We are being shipped somewhere!"

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Muse glared furiously at the two stallions in front of her. They were lashing out at each other with teeth and hooves. She sighed and her head drifted down. She sensed her father coming up behind her.

"What is it, Muse?"

"They're fighting over me."

"That is to be expected, darling. It is the mating season."

"But I don't want a mate! Why can't anyone get that into their heads?"

"Muse! Don't you dare run away – MUSE!"

Muse ignored his calls and shot off, barging right through the middle of the two stallions, effectively separating them, and disappearing out onto the plains. Rain came up to Spirit.

"Did she run off again?"

"Yes! What is with that child?"

"She's reluctant, you know that."

"So? She has to understand – it's the natural balance!"

"That doesn't make it any easier for her, Spirit. She's still young. Give her time."

Rain looked up at her mate with entreating eyes, and Spirit sighed, lowering his muzzle to rub it against hers.

"I know."

Muse was several kilometres away, and now standing facing the sunset, pawing the ground in disgust.

"Stupid, idiotic males!" she was muttering as she kicked up clods of red earth, to watch the wind play with them. "such twats … not enough blood to supply two things at once, so brain goes walk-about … Christ! I hate this time of year."

The eagle soaring overhead banked off to the east, and Muse watched it go, mane whipping out behind her. She heaved a great sigh.

_Prats, _she thought, lashing out at a stand of grass to give vent to her frustrated feelings.

The eagle soared above her again, occasionally calling out, and Muse identified a cloud of dust that could only be her father galloping full-out towards her. She shook her head and screamed a challenge before pushing off her front legs to turn around and sprinting in the opposite direction.

Her legs pumped furiously beneath her, and she revelled in her freedom. Muse felt the wind whistling in her mane and tail, and watched the trees flash by. With a neigh, she kicked up her heels and shook her head. The eagle seemed to be following overhead, and Muse snorted at it, slowing to watch it as it hovered. Then, suddenly, she heard a horse's whinny in the distance. She pivoted on her hind legs and stared hard in the direction the noise had come from. Her eyes narrowed as a strange sound reached her ears.

Harsh, deep voices grumbled out across the plain. Muse pricked her ears further and took a step forward. The horses rushing towards her were decked out with strange leather contraptions. They seemed to have lumps on something on their backs, and Muse cocked her head to one side, trying to work out what was going on.

Then she could make out what the horse in front was yelling.

"Go! Get out of here! They'll try to catch you! RUN!"

Muse frowned, and called back.

"Why?"

Then a rush of wind next to her announced her father's arrival. Muse watched in astonishment as he skidded to a halt and hurriedly switched direction, all but crashing into her.

"Run, Muse! Get away from them!"

Muse refused.

"But, Dad, they're just horses."

"Horses carrying humans intent on capturing you. Run, Muse, I cannot concentrate on driving them away when I'm worrying about you. Go!"

The last command was unnecessary. As soon as Muse heard the word 'humans', she turned tail and fled. The humans goaded their mounts onward, and Spirit turned away from his daughter with a mischievous grin.

"Here … we … go!" Spirit muttered, his eyes flashing in anticipation.

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Caesarion stood in one corner of the large box, head resting against the wood, peering through a gap in the planks to survey what was going on in the rest of the ship. There were several humans wandering in and out of the large space, carrying sacks and forks.

He lashed his tail out at the flies on his back, and twisted his face so he could see far to the right. There was another box there, and he could smell the horses in it. In direct contrast to the box he was in, their box was constantly noisy, and he could hear hooves hitting the wood. With a sigh, Caesarion drew back and moved over to where his sister was standing, deep in conversation with the other mare, Shiner. Ignoring the females, who turned to survey him, he moved over to the door.

The grooms had unlatched the top half to let fresh air in for an hour or so, and Caesarion stuck his head as far out as he could. He turned to see all the humans rushing out as a bell sounded above them. With a perplexed snort, he looked down and examined the locking mechanism on the door. There was only a simple deadbolt, and Caesarion whinnied in triumph. Nero hastened over.

"What is it?"

"Look! All they've got on the door is one of those easy locks! I had one of these but they changed it to something different because I could open it too easily! See … "

Caesarion pulled back the bolt with his teeth, working it backwards until it clicked and the door swung open. With a proud neigh, Caesarion wandered out of the box, pausing for a minute to examine his surroundings fully. He could see a large pile of feed in the corner, and walked over to it, followed by Nero. The two mares stuck their heads out of the door, too timid to walk out.

"Hey, look!" Nero called as he picked up a bale of hay with his teeth. He trotted back to their box and tossed it in. Caesarion did the same, grinning, and was returning to get another when he heard a faint voice.

"Please …" Caesarion froze, and then turned towards the second box.

"We are so hungry." The voice claimed. Caesarion took steps to get closer to it, and saw a thin, emaciated head poking out of the unlatched half-door, covered in red sores.

"What happened to you?" Caesarion asked, horrified.

"We are not famous. We do not race. We are cheap imports to be workers in the fields of the New World. Plus, we kicked some ass out there, so we're being punished."

Caesarion grinned at the mare, and trotted over to the pile of hay, hefting a bale up and tossing it into the other box. There were several horses in it, all cramped, head to tail. Caesarion was appalled.

"How can they do this to you?"

"They are strong and clever, and they have whips to cause us pain. Thank you for the food, friend."

"You're welcome. I am Caesarion. Who are you?" he asked quietly as the other horses hungrily devoured the hay.

"I am Sunshine. I was owned by a little girl but her family sold me on. I am strong enough, so I will be used to plough."

Caesarion was about to reply when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Bolting back to his box, he whinnied a goodbye and had just re-bolted his door when the first person appeared on the wooden steps.

As the humans' expressions turned to dismay as they caught sight of the diminished pile of feed, Caesarion turned to the others in his box. Nero was lying down in a corner with Shiner, and Rose was standing with her head hanging down, looking almost asleep. Caesarion stood, thinking hard about this other side of human nature he had not been aware of before.

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Spirit returned with a jaunty step to his herd. Muse was nowhere to be seen.

"Rain, love, where's Muse?" he asked his mate. Rain looked up from the grass she was chewing.

"Hiding," she informed him, swallowing, and then bending her head back down.

"Hiding where?" Spirit persisted.

"If I knew she wouldn't be hidden, would she?" Rain replied, ignoring Spirit as he pawed the ground angrily.

"Dammit! That child is a nightmare."

"She takes after you."

"I'm going to find her."

"You won't."

"Watch me."

Spirit sniffed the air carefully, and then, setting off at a gallop, followed his daughter's trail until it reached some woodland. Spirit snorted angrily. Forest was not safe for a young mare. Muse had obviously decided to go somewhere it was unlikely her father would ever find her. Spirit felt the challenge in her desertion and pushed through the first fronds of the trees. He walked quickly, lightly, taking as much care as he could not to make too much noise. Strong as he was, there were some things a horse just _knew _not to challenge.

He caught Muse's scent on passing trees and ferns, and sped up. He was heading into the blackness of the heart of the forest, and he didn't like it. He eventually reached a stream, and Muse's scent vanished at that point. It didn't go back out the other side, so he was faced with the dilemma of which way to go. He picked the way that led to the outside of the forest finally, and set off in the stream, trotting quickly.

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Caesarion stood in the corner of the box, using his whole body to protect his sister. The boat was swinging wildly from side to side, and all four horses in the box were at risk of falling and breaking a leg. He was pinning her down to stop her from rolling about, and Nero and Shiner were supporting each other on the other side. The storm was crashing heavily all about them, and Caesarion didn't like the agonised groans and creaks coming from the wood all around them. Human voices shouted and screamed as water gushed in, soaking the straw around the horse box. Rose was shaking, her eyes shut.

"It'll be alright, Rosie," Caesarion reassured her with more confidence than he felt. She opened an eye and nickered softly, terrified. A clatter of footsteps sounded on the stairs and a human voice was heard.

"Get the horses out! They can swim for shore and then we don't have to worry about them."

The lock on the door of the box was smashed open and the door swung free. Humans poured in, grunting and shoving at the four horses to get them out. Caesarion staggered from side to side with the motion, but then he found his footing and helped his sister. He felt a lash at his back and kicked out, catching the wielder of the whip unawares. But he needed no more encouragement and ordered Rose up the stairs. Shiner and Nero followed her unsteadily while Caesarion turned and plunged through the crowd of humans to the door of the other box. He threw his whole weight against it, hooves out, and it splintered. He screamed at the occupants to get out. Three made it out, but the other was lying on the floor, his leg bent at an odd angle. His eyes were glazed in pain, and Caesarion knew he wouldn't make it. With a whinny of sorrow and apology, Caesarion turned and fled up the stairs with the others. Shiner and Rose had stopped at the top and were shifting uncertainly as the boat tilted to and fro.

"JUMP!" he shrieked at them, and took a running leap over the railings. Rose followed him unhesitatingly, and eventually all but one of the others followed. The brown gelding still on board neighed in distress, pacing from side to side.

"Jump overboard!" Nero yelled, and the other horses all took up the cry, paddling desperately to stay afloat, legs kicking out beneath them. The gelding wouldn't jump, so Caesarion knew he had to leave him.

"Let's go! Swim for the shore!" he called over the crash of the heaving, grey waves. His eyes were half closed against the painful sting of the salt, and he swam alongside his sister, encouraging her, plunging through the waves. He was the fittest horse there, and it showed in his strength and stamina as he led the rest of the horses towards the distant beach.

"Caesarion!" Rose cried out behind him, exhaustion written over every line of her body. Then her head slipped beneath the surface. Caesarion accomplished an incredible twist in the water, and dove below the waves, searching for his sister. Her young body was drifting downwards as her legs kicked weakly. He made it to her, his lungs burning with a salty fire, and pushed her body upwards. He broke the surface in a frantic spray of water, gasping in a breath, then made sure her head was supported by his neck and her body was draped over his. He was now running on pure adrenaline, and he pushed himself forwards. He saw another head slip below the waves, and felt soul-tearing anguish as he realised he couldn't save them. He didn't know who it was, but he felt sorrow for their passing.

Suddenly, so unexpectedly he almost fell, he felt sand beneath his hooves. He dragged himself wearily from the water, still carrying his sister. He saw someone else emerge like a kelpie from the surf, just another black shape against the night. He was too exhausted to think, so he staggered back up the beach. Then he collapsed, his sister falling next to him. Without another thought, he shut his eyes and allowed blackness to take him.


End file.
